It's a dog-eat-dog world
by kongosoha
Summary: but they manage. Short, unrelated one-shots, usually set pre-canon or post-canon, about several Inuyasha characters.
1. Shooting Star

**Shooting Star**

Fire.

The great dog demon was doomed.

 _So be it._

Dying was strange. He could smell his own flesh burning, but after a few seconds, he felt no more pain.

The Inu no Taisho wasn't one to ponder during a combat. He prided himself on being completely present in battle, body and soul. The General, the legend, had no regrets.

Toga had. His life didn't pass before his eyes like people said it would, he didn't think of his friends, he didn't wish he had done anything different… except for one thing.

He wished he'd seen his son's face.

All he knew was his name, and that was all he'd ever know.

Toga never asked for anything; he always took what he wanted. This time, as his white hair turned black and his strong muscles became dust, he prayed for the gods to grant him this small wish: his second son's face.

The demon didn't know if he deserved mercy from heaven, but he thought his life had been decent enough to earn him a glimpse of Inuyasha.

And it had.

The gods showed him not only his son's face (so like his own), but also his life flame. It would begin frail and almost go out at times. It would burn low for years in a dormant state, until something would happen…

Then, it'd explode in a spark of color.

His son's flame would burn like a shooting star, blinding his enemies and guiding his friends. _Like a true leader._

It was so hot, so bright, so alive. _So worthy._

Just like a shooting star, it would also be brief.

It was enough, though. He was enough. _I'm glad to leave for you to stay._

In the dying embers of a mortal fire, an immortal flame went out—without regrets.


	2. Feminine Touches

**Feminine Touches**

His mama was laughing, tiny tears coming out of her eyes.

Apparently, he had said something funny. Inuyasha couldn't see what.

She picked him up, kissed his nose, and lifted him higher by his armpits.

Next thing he knew, they were spinning, spinning, spinning…

He laughed and laughed until his sides hurt, his childish squeals filling the air.

* * *

His mom was beautiful, dark silky hair framing her face.

Apparently, she had been sick for a long time. Inuyasha couldn't see how.

He took her hand, kissed her fingers, and pressed them firmly against his cheek.

Next thing he knew, she was cooling, cooling, cooling…

He cried and cried until he went numb, his lingering sobs disturbing the peace.

* * *

His miko was smiling, her tired gaze reflecting the sun.

Apparently, she had decided she liked him too. Inuyasha couldn't see why.

He hunched down, looked at her face, and listened to all that she had to say.

Next thing he knew, he was falling, falling, falling…

They talked and talked until it was late, not knowing their plans would never come true.

* * *

His wife was yelling, her purpled face making him panic.

Apparently, she thought he was being stupid. This time, Inuyasha could see it.

He approached her carefully, still afraid she'd go home and leave him again.

Next thing he knew, they were kissing, kissing, kissing…

She teased and teased until he was sorry, his heart beating faster with her every touch.

* * *

 **A/N:** This is not supposed to be a poem, guys. I just wanted to make the four parts the same way! I don't know what it is now, lol, but I hope it's okay.


	3. A Being as Old

**A Being as Old**

Golden. Sesshomaru knew the color very well.

His own eyes, his father's, his mother's, his…

 _No._

The setting sun made the remaining snow glow golden. The winter was over. Sesshomaru stood there, watching as the sky became red.

Another color he knew well.

 _You won't use Tenseiga_ , he had practically commanded. Insolent, stubborn half-breed. As if Sesshomaru ever would have.

Would he?

Sesshomaru was angry. In the end, he had been robbed.

The taiyoukai was surrounded by white, golden, and red. He felt mother nature was mocking him with those colors, pointing her finger and laughing at his ways, his stubbornness. He refused to question himself, though. A being as old as Sesshomaru had his pride.

Hanyou were beginning to be more common those days. Soon, youkai blood would be diluted completely, or so it seemed. The taiyoukai was familiar with a few of them, even respected them, and it made him uneasy for all the wrong reasons.

Still, to second-guess himself would be ridiculous. A being as old as Sesshomaru had his convictions.

The dog demon turned around, leaving his brother's final resting place. The reckless boy had matured to a strong-willed man, and this one had been dead for a long time. Sesshomaru was always angry when he went there, but not in his usual, bloodthirsty way. It was in a way that would have made it hard to breathe if he were anyone else, but a being as old as Sesshomaru had…

What?

 _This isn't grief. I hated you._

But he was alone in his hatred.

 _I thought you were too stubborn to ever die… Inuyasha._


	4. Motherhood

**Motherhood**

"Where are you, Inuyasha?" Izayoi called again. She was getting more anxious by the minute.

The woman heard a giggle coming from above and lifted her head to scrutinize the treetops.

"I can't believe you climbed up there again!" She said, putting her fists on her hips and glaring at the foliage.

Inuyasha climbed down using his tiny claws on the tree bark. As soon as his small frame was within arm's length, Izayoi picked him up and held him tight.

"Can't breathe, mama," he complained, swinging his feet so she'd release him.

"How many times have I told you to call me when you want to climb trees?" She asked. "No one could be as stubborn!"

The five-year-old boy had the decency to look contrite, averting his eyes at the same time his puppy ears drooped.

Looking closely, Izayoi realized he had a gnash on his left cheek.

"What happened to your face, Inuyasha?"

"I found a squirrel," he answered simply.

"And you thought it was a good idea to catch it? You did this to yourself, sir!"

"But I just wanted to play," he complained quietly.

Izayoi's heart ached for her lonely son. She touched his face so he'd look at her.

When he did, she was impressed by the sharp contrast between his golden eyes and the greenery around them.

 _Spirit of the forest, indeed…_

"Does this mean you don't want to play with me anymore?" The woman asked, giving a peck on his injured cheek. "Big boys can't play with their mothers, is that it?"

Inuyasha immediately hugged her closer, putting his legs around her waist and nuzzling her neck.

Izayoi always giggled when she felt his wet nose sniffing her skin.

"Silly mama," he said, his voice sounding muffled. "I wanna play with you forever!"

Izayoi felt a twinge of pain at his words, but she refused to cry. She'd done enough crying for a lifetime. Instead of shedding tears, she kissed her son everywhere she could reach from that position.

"You don't know what that means…" She admonished as lightly as possible.

Putting his small hands on her shoulders, Inuyasha pushed himself up to look at her again. Before he could say anything, though, his mother started kissing his entire face.

He squealed with joy when she touched the fine hairs of his ears with her lips.

"It tickles!" He said.

Izayoi smiled, finishing her assault on him with a firm kiss on his forehead. His white bangs smelled of earth and child sweat.

"Let's go home, little monkey," she said playfully. "I have to clean this bruise on your cheek."

"You're not mad anymore?" Inuyasha asked in a singsong voice. Izayoi thought he looked positively devilish with that tiny fang poking out of his lip.

"I've given up fighting you… today," she answered. "But you should know better than to climb trees without my supervision."

"You'll catch me if I fall, mama?" He whispered, passing his diminutive claws through her black hair.

"For as long as I can, love," she whispered back.


	5. Daddy's Secret Finger

**Daddy's Secret Finger**

His daughter, his baby girl, was looking up at him questioningly with big brown eyes.

Brown like her mother's— _the one who should be answering this shit._

Eleventh time.

"Well, daddy? How?" She asked again, twitching her own pair of puppy ears.

 _I have to say something. Anything. Tell her anything, you worthless excuse for a father._

What had his mother told him when he had asked her this same question? He remembered that she had flushed a little, true to her royal upbringing.

 _Well, you were born just like any other child, Inuyasha… even though you're a little different_ , she had said with a fond smile, caressing his ears.

 _That doesn't answer shit, does it?_

Twelfth time.

Yasuko huffed. Standing on her knees, she looked at him straight in the eye and pressed his face between her hands.

"Look at me, papa" She demanded, touching her small wet nose to his.

He backed away a little, taking hold of those forceful tiny hands.

"Why don't you ask your mom? She's smarter than your old man."

 _Please, let me escape this_ , Inuyasha prayed, looking up at the Goshinboku from their spot on its roots.

"I did," the girl sighed, sitting on his lap again and facing their house. "Mama said you put a seed in her belly. I wanna now how you did it, daddy. Can I do it too?"

Inuyasha sputtered.

"Um… Well, you see," he took a deep breath, "only boys can do it, sweetie."

"Imma ask uncle Miroku if you don't say more."

Inuyasha held her tighter.

"Daddy has a secret… f-finger. He uses it to plant his seeds," he answered.

 _What the fuck was that just now?_

She gasped and looked up at him again.

"But where is it? How you hide it all the time? Is it like a pinkie finger?"

The little witch was looking him over. Inuyasha was as mortified as he was outraged by that point.

 _Think fast. Don't leave her room to ask you anything else, damn it!_

"It's in the same place you and your mama have that secret cave. That's why you have it, really. And people are _not_ to show these things around, kid."

He was almost frantic.

Yasuko pondered on it for a few minutes, then she made the cutest wise face—as if everything were suddenly clear.

"I won't show," she guaranteed. "Don't want no babies."

 _Thank you, whoever's in charge of my sorry hide_ , Inuyasha thought, patting her white head affectionately.

Just when that little talk was over, Kagome lifted the bamboo mat and called them in, smiling brightly.

Inuyasha blushed, remembering the time they had decided to have a kid. He had made a fool of himself, asking her to explain to him some of the things he had been discussing with their daughter just now.

 _That school of hers was worth something, after all_ , he decided begrudgingly.

Looking at his wife as she picked Yasuko up, he could only marvel at his luck once again.

 _Shit_ , he thought fondly.

Thirteenth time.

* * *

 **A/N:** I haven't given Yasuko an exact age because children are different, but I think most of them start getting this curious around seven. Is that right? Lol.


	6. Babysitter Jinenji

**Babysitter Jinenji**

The toddler looked up at Jinenji with huge brown eyes. Her lips started quivering, making him acutely aware of how frightening he must've looked like to someone so small.

"Don't cry," He pleaded helplessly.

 _Kagome said she wouldn't take long_ , Jinenji thought.

The hanyou kept crouching, pulling herbs out of the ground, and trying to ignore the baby girl beside him. Still, he could feel Yasuko looking expectantly at him from her spot on the ground.

As soon as his eyes met hers again, her lip resumed it's quivering.

The child lifted her chubby hands toward the huge man, making him freeze. He'd seen her do it before, when she'd been tired of sitting on her piece of cloth.

"You want up?" He asked uneasily.

She huffed and lifted her arms higher, shaking them awkwardly. Her white puppy ears were drooped.

Jinenji still couldn't bring himself to touch her, though.

When Yasuko's face became red and tears began to pool in her eyes, he panicked. Using his thumb and index finger, he picked her up by the scruff of her neck and held her at arm's length.

 _I'm doing it wrong_ , he thought alarmedly when Yasuko started kicking the air.

Trying not to move too quickly, he sat the toddler on his bent knee and used one of his hands to support her back. Jinenji resumed his working with the other one.

Yasuko would suddenly giggle, gurgle, or squeal with joy when a butterfly flew by, scaring him half to death.

 _Please come back, Kagome..._

When the kid yawned and tried to get closer to him, Jinenji started sweating. Without really thinking about it, he moved his hand from her back and cradled her to his belly.

A few minutes passed before he looked down at his cargo again.

The hanyou was astonished to see Yasuko actually sleeping. One of her arms dangled in the air, she breathed softly, and her ears moved lazily.

It was the first time Jinenji held a child—and it felt wonderful.

Realizing Kagome's daughter didn't fear him filled the hanyou with a strong sense of peace. He couldn't wait to see the woman's expression when he showed her the sleeping girl.

 _Maybe she'll need me again sometime…_

* * *

 **A/N:** I like awkward, inept giants taking care of babies.


	7. Growth

**A/N:** Written for Inukag Week 2016 - Day 1: _Growth_.

* * *

 _Dear daughter,_

 _When you read this letter, you'll have already left. I'm writing it as I watch you and your father standing outside, trying to catch fireflies beneath a moonless sky. I hope he's not getting too emotional over the wedding… God knows his human nights are already hard enough on him._

 _Now, Yasuko, I'd like to share a few words of wisdom with you._

 _Aside from a couple of childhood crushes you had, you never showed romantic interest in anyone. Kei took us completely by surprise when he said you both wanted to marry, but I saw it in your shy smile that you really care about him. That Kei is Miroku and Sango's son could only make me happier for you, and your father will get there!_

 _Sango used to think me a saint for putting up with Inuyasha's running to Kikyo, but nowadays she knows the truth. I wasn't a martyr, Yasuko. I stayed by your father's side because I wanted to, more than anything I'd ever wanted. I couldn't be happy without him anymore, so I decided to make us both happy by staying. I wasn't a betrayed wife, and Inuyasha wasn't my cheating husband! I was a fifteen-year-old girl who refused to abandon her best friend because he came with a past. Would he be the man I love if his past had been different?_

 _So, my most important piece of advice is: keep being his friend. Love is hard, darling, especially when we're immature! You both need to have patience, because you will have to make sacrifices. One must not ask the other to change what they know the other can't. If it is something changeable, life will take care of it—trust me on this. Accept him the way he is._

 _It's natural to feel powerless sometimes, and to cry, but don't turn yourself into a victim in your own story. Be a heroine, my love._

 _Fight him, make mistakes, protect him, scream at him, live another day. Hold his hand and walk toward tomorrow, Yasuko. If you get there, you'll see it was all worth it._

 _I wish you the best of luck._

 _Your mother,_

 _Kagome_

 _Ps: I know the Slayers' Village is a little far, but don't take too long to visit us! Your poor old man needs his baby girl, after all. Maybe you could come back in spring to see the maple flowers… you always loved them so._


	8. Care

**A/N:** Written for Inukag Week 2016 - Day 2: _Care_.

* * *

Kagome's fingers were trembling too much to do anything right.

The claw gashes went from Inuyasha's shoulder blades to his lower back, encircling his waist. There simply wasn't a right way to bandage him. She couldn't see his face, but his breathing came out ragged. Each time Kagome's cold, shaking fingers touched his torn skin, Inuyasha groaned—a pain-filled sound so foreign in his mouth that she felt like weeping.

He usually didn't make any noise during her ministrations.

 _Push my hands away and call me stupid_ , the girl prayed. _Say it's nothing._

Sparing a quick glance at the moonless sky, she knew he'd be lying if he did so.

In a rare show of weakness, Inuyasha bent over his crossed legs, hiding himself in his own lap. He reminded her of a child—a bucket of cold water that stopped the girl's hands mid-motion.

A human fifteen-year-old boy shouldn't fight demons.

 _He looks so thin, so fragile._ She shook her head determinedly. _I have to keep it together. Inuyasha will be healed by morning._

 _It's noth-_

"I can't," Kagome whispered.

Inuyasha turned his head to the side, dislodging the curtain of black hair that had been hiding his face. "Kagome?"

"I can't bandage you and pretend I'm doing a good job," she said hysterically. "You need to see a real doctor. You're human right now!"

"It'll be fine by morning," he mumbled. "You just need to cover the wounds for me until then."

 _Need._

"You never said you needed me to do anything!" She squealed. "Stop it! We need to go through the well and-"

Inuyasha sighed impatiently and closed his eyes. "You've done this a million times, wench. I'm human, but that doesn't change what you have to do."

He seemed exhausted only from speaking.

"It's more for my sake than yours," she confessed, dropping the bloodied gauze to the ground and covering her face with her hands.

"What?"

"I like to pretend I'm helping instead of just sitting and worrying!" She clarified in exasperation, uncovering her face to glare at his back. "I always, always know you'll be fine with or without my care, b-but the night just begun! W-We can't wait 'til sunrise! Not this time!"

They stayed quiet for a moment. The only sounds came from the snapping fire, Inuyasha's breathing, and Kagome's sniffling.

"Okay," he agreed. "When the others come back, I'll ask Kirara for a ride."

Kagome took a deep, relieved breath and wiped a few tears away. Without thinking about it, she leaned over his bent form and planted a quick kiss on the nape of his neck.

Inuyasha's ragged breathing stopped.

 _His breathing stopped at all_ , she suppressed a nervous giggle. _His skin was so warm—probably from fever, and here am I thinking-_

"It's kinda for my sake, too," Inuyasha blurted suddenly. "Protecting you, I mean."

Kagome stopped putting away her First-Aid Kit to look at him. The boy hadn't moved; he couldn't see her furrowed brow. "No, it's not. I really need it, Inuyasha."

"Don't be stupid," he rasped. "Way back in the beginning, you did. Now you can stand your ground—mostly." Inuyasha gulped, "I like to think you still need me, but-"

"I do," she was quick to reassure him. "More than that, I… I like to feel protected."

"Keh," he tried to look at her from his place on the ground. Kagome scooted closer to make it easier for him. "So you take care of me for your own sake, and I protect you for mine. That about right?"

She offered him a weak smile, feeling her eyes start to burn again. "Yeah," Kagome acquiesced. "We're selfish, huh?"

"I dunno," Inuyasha mused quietly, eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe it's selfishness," he swallowed, "maybe it's something else."

They both knew what it was, but didn't dare voice it—yet.

 _With any luck, we get to selfishly care for a bit longer_ , the girl wished mutely.


	9. Flaws

**A/N:** Written for Inukag Week 2016 - Day 3: _Flaws_.

* * *

That jerk… He's always complaining, he's rude, selfish, self-centered, _and_ stupid!

* * *

That wench… She's always yelling, she's clumsy, naive, slow, _and_ stupid!

* * *

He must think I'm such a _failure_ —I can't do anything right.

Why does he always come after me?

Hmph. I won't let him in!

* * *

She must think I'm such a _failure_ —I can't do anything right.

Why does she always come back?

Keh. I shouldn't have let her in…

* * *

Am I a monster for feeling jealous?

* * *

A-Am I a monster?

* * *

Why doesn't he _talk_ to me?

* * *

Why doesn't she _listen_ to me?

* * *

"I want to stay with you."

"I-I don't want you to leave."

"Oh… o-okay. Um… Are you all right, Inuyasha?"

"Yeah… Let's go, Kagome."


	10. Sorrow

**A/N:** Written for Inukag Week 2016 - Day 5: _Sorrow_.

* * *

 _Baby girl,_

 _First of all, Shippo don't know nothing, so don't you go listening to him. I'm fine. (I know you're reading this, runt. Just deliver the damn thing!)_

 _Second, it's no big deal that you won't come. I don't want you draggin' the brats around the country, and Kei can't stay alone with them. I would kick his ass if something happened, so there. Spare yout husband._

 _Third, I'm sure Kei told you Sango wants to go visiting. Sorry, I ain't going with Grandma Slayer. I've stuff to do, like fixing your mom's garden. I don't even remember when my last 'sit' was, but if she saw the garden now…_

 _Anyway, NO CRYING! I want you to be happy, to laugh a lot. I don't think there's anything else I can do for you, but hey, I'll always be by your side._

 _Give a peck on each of my grandkids' claws for me. Do it everyday, and say you like them just the way they are._

 _Take care, Yasuko._

 _Your old man,_

 _Inuyasha_

 _PS: Don't worry about the new moon. Y'know, I spent lots of those alone, thank you very much._

 _PPS: Kohaku's coming in summer. I thought he could bring you, maybe? If not, I understand._


	11. Toward Tomorrow

**A/N:** Written for Inukag Week 2016 - Day 7: _Toward Tomorrow_.

* * *

He didn't believe his eyes when he saw her again.

There was a spark in his gut, his heartstrings were pulled, his knees were weak. When he hauled her out of the well, he was sure she could feel his hand shaking.

Loving was worse than any human night, and just as intense.

* * *

He didn't recognize her when he saw her again.

There was no spark in his gut, no pull at his heartstrings, his knees didn't buckle; in fact, he'd been attending her classes as a guest auditor for months before he felt anything.

It wasn't until one day, when he'd been napping in class after a hard night of working, that he realized it was her. She touched his shoulder lightly, and he lifted his head to look into huge, concerned gray eyes.

"Are you alright?"

Such a simple question… it was a pity he didn't know how to answer.

The young man drank in the professor's face as if it were the last one he'd ever see. Her short, coppery hair was a stranger's; her thin lips were a stranger's; and her sharp nose was a stranger's. Her eyes, though… her eyes were _hers_.

But who was she?

 _He_ was a nobody, really, but there was that nagging feeling… that wonderful, breathtaking feeling that he had been someone before. He felt noticed, even important.

As the woman's question echoed in his mind (are you alright? Are you alright? Are _you_ alright?), he felt her genuine concern touching something deep inside.

Was this how it felt to have a crush on a teacher? He was… overcome. There were no butterflies in his stomach, but a warm feeling of satisfaction instead. She was worried about him, and it felt _great_.

She smiled at his confused look ( _man, I must look so stupid_ ), making the warmth in his gut spread to his entire body, eventually reaching his face.

He needed to answer her, but he was too embarrassed. He also never acted this way, so contemplative. It was disorienting.

"Um… F-Fine, thanks," he stuttered. His cheeks darkened at the murmuring of the students.

She squeezed his arm gently, her eyes filled with understanding, and proceeded with her lecture.

He just sat there, dumbstruck, listening to the sound of her voice. It had been so long, so very long, almost _too_ long.

But what had been?

* * *

The thing about tomorrows is that there will be more than one.

I'm watching with satisfied amusement. Finally, they felt the humming resonance of my knotted threads, my powerful binding.

They are not who they once were, I must remind myself. It's an entirely new story, with new people, and one can never know how it will end—not even I.

He seems so surprised it's actually funny. Doesn't he know she always comes back—through the door, the well, the grave? As his first love, second, hundredth, his best friend? It doesn't matter _how_ she comes, or _what_ she is to him, but if she stays. That is up to them.

Born to meet him, indeed… And most of the time, he has no idea. (All the more fun for me.)

I'm as long as their journey will be, I'm twice as strong as I appear, and still they cannot see me. Oh, I'm also red… probably from laughing so hard.

The gods may throw the dice; I tangle, but I don't snap. They know that, don't they? My pull is stronger than any jewel's.

They're so different this time… I for one will miss the puppy ears, the fights, the hunting for the shards, the new moon nights, the drama… But I digress.

It's time to live, not dwell on old fairy tales.

Toward tomorrow my little birds fly. I hope they have a good one.

* * *

 **A/N:** I wish I could tell you what happened here, lol.

Although the idea of the red string of fate is romantic, I like to think people stay together because they want to. My diplomatic solution was: the string brings them together every time, but they get to decide if they stay that way, and as what.


	12. Blessed Hands

**A/N:** Mirsan.

* * *

 **Blessed Hands**

She didn't remember much about her mother, but some conversations stood out amongst the foggy veil that seemed to cover her childhood memories.

 _Mother, how did you fall in love with Father?_

 _It was his smile, Sango. He had such white teeth!_

They left a strong impression, those words—like it often happens with seemingly unimportant episodes. Sango thought it was a silly reason to fall for someone, which got her wondering: _will I fall in love with someone's smile? No, I think it will be his eyes!_

This, of course, was before, during a time when she payed no mind to the blood coming out from under her fingernails as she washed her hands; before, when the story of the half-demon stuck to the tree was just a legend meant to scare children into behaving; before, when she didn't know she'd fall in love with the right person at the worst possible time—for both.

Sango would never admit it out loud, but she fell in love with Miroku's _hands_ of all things. Oh, the irony!

It wasn't the groping. She fell in love with how strongly he grasped her waist as they rode Kirara together; fell slowly, painfully in love with the sight of his dark-skinned fingers brushing against her armor. She dreamed of kissing both his palms, dreamed of undressing his covered, cursed hand, getting rid of the offending piece of cloth that was always, _always_ in her way—like so many other things.

Miroku's hands had groped her, protected her and healed her, but what she really wanted was for them to hold hers. Eventually, when there had been no more spider, no reason to hide behind shameless flirting and no covering, they did.

On her wedding night, she let his hands—unblemished, unstoppable—touch her everywhere. She let his hands hold their children and help her with the laundry, relishing the sight of their fingers meeting under the glistening water.

Sango would notice when _that_ hand shook without warning, begging for reassurance, and she would intertwine her fingers with his, building them a small, invincible cage. Miroku helped the men build their house with those hands—the house in which he would die peacefully of old age, with her at his side, after battling all his demons and mercilessly groping his loving wife for an entire life.

While it happened, Sango repeatedly kissed Miroku's hands, and he offered her a tired—but still infatuated—smile.

"Won't you kiss my lips like that other time you said goodbye, wife?"

She ran her fingers through his white hair, sighing wistfully. "Kissing lips is for children, husband. I didn't know it, but I was still a child—a broken girl." She paused. "I'm a full woman now."

 _And I fell in love with your hands_ , she mentally added, giving him a secretive, sad, already-missing-you smile. _But I would never tell you that, you lecherous, stupid, dearest monk._


	13. Reboot

**A/N:** Written for Narkik Weekend, the tumblr event for Naraku x Kikyo. This was my first time ever writting about this pairing, so please, be gentle lol.

* * *

 **Reboot**

 _Is this what it feels like... to be at peace?_

* * *

Her name meant 'peace', and the irony wasn't lost on anyone.

From the moment little Kou learned how to walk, she began playing pranks on others. She would put bugs on mama's soup, small stones in papa's shoes, crickets under their sleeping pallette. They would laugh and tweak her nose, sometimes giving her a kiss—it was all child's play.

When she was ten, Kou made a friend.

Her name meant 'child of a thousand generations', but only one of those seemed to matter.

At first sight, Chiyoko looked like an ordinary child. When she smiled and waved, though, people couldn't help but notice her fangs and claws—physical traits she'd inherited from the half-demon Inuyasha.

Chiyoko was the only grandchild of the four village heroes who had defeated the evil Naraku, but the both of them never talked about that story. Kou didn't like it very much; just hearing about spiders made her small hands wet with sweat.

* * *

One day, as they lay under the Goshinboku, Chiyoko blurted: "Grandpa is dying."

Kou frowned, still looking up. "Shouldn't he live for very long?"

"He has." Chiyoko sighed.

Kou turned her head to look at her friend's profile. Brown and black strands of hair were tangled on the grass, shining under the sunlight that came through the foliage.

"He must miss your grandmother," Kou murmured. One of the few parts she liked about the story of Chiyoko's family was the _second_ beginning, when Lady Kagome arrived through the Bone-Eater's Well.

Chiyoko swallowed, violet eyes clouded. "I don't want him to die."

Kou secretly admired Inuyasha very much. She always wondered what it must be like to be a half-demon, but she couldn't hold his gaze for long enough to ask. When it came to him, Kou felt like a moth circling a flame—never dumb enough to get burned, but unable to move away.

"What were the others like?" Kou asked quietly, wanting to distract her friend without being obvious about it. "Do you remember them?"

"No…" Chiyoko sighed. "I wish I did."

Like mostly everyone in Edo, Chiyoko loved people she hadn't known. Was it because of the story?

Kou wished she had the guts to hear it just one more time.

* * *

When they both were twelve, Inuyasha the half-demon died.

Chiyoko's eyes were filled with new tears from old pain, making her mother, who wept openly, look like a child—especially with her canine ears flattened.

Once she was alone in the clearing, Kou approached Inuyasha's grave under the setting sun, her frown deepening with every step she took. Standing in front of it, the girl clenched her tiny fists.

"When I met Chiyoko, I threw aprons at her back and hid behind the bushes," she said. "I pushed her on the river during the Tanabata festival. I cut holes in her pants. I—" Her breath hitched in her throat. "I'm sorry," Kou murmured. "I'm sorry."

Why was she apologizing for those silly pranks? Did she really feel guilty about something so stupid, so harmless?

"I'm so sorry."

She heard nothing but the drumming of her heart, saw nothing but the blood-red sky, and suddenly it was all too intense. She turned around and ran— _like a coward, like a moth who wished it had burned while it could._

* * *

As it always does, time passed.

Chiyoko traveled a lot to the Slayers' Village to train with her twin aunts, her father's sisters. Her mother told her there was no rush, but Chiyoko knew she was getting old. Someone would have to protect the village once she was gone.

"I have to start early," she said to Kou. "I'm afraid I'll never be enough."

Kou frowned. "I'm afraid I'll never be."

At fifteen, Chiyoko came back from the Slayers' Village dressed in full taijiya armor, the fire-rat robe draped over her shoulders like a queen's mantle—or so it seemed to Kou.

Taking in her friend's familiar face, Kou finally saw what other people must always have: the living proof that a slayer had survived her grief, a monk had survived his curse, a girl had defeated a shining villain, and one half-demon had survived himself. They came, they saw, they _lived._

Kou couldn't seem to take her eyes off of Chiyoko—so she decided she wouldn't.

So she decided she loved her.

If anyone thought it strange that Kou followed Chiyoko _every_ where, they never said so; friends only wish to stay together, after all.

* * *

The piece of soul Urasue had taken from Kagome to resurrect Kikyo never came back to the girl's body after the tragic priestess passed away; rather, it had ascended with the borrowed ones.

Forever separated from its larger part, it had no choice but to come back.

No one knows if an oyster contains a pearl unless they rip it open, but Chiyoko wouldn't allow anyone to do that to her—so how could she know she was the legacy of five heroes instead of four?


	14. Midnight Tea

**A/N:** Written for **Mirsan Week** on Tumblr. Prompt: _First Signs_.

* * *

 **Midnight Tea**

A monk and a demon slayer sat together near a snapping fire.

 _My God_ , Sango thought. _It sounds like the start of a joke, not a love story._

She cleared her throat. "Would you like some tea, houshi-sama?"

Miroku was gazing at the flames, which cast an orange glow upon his face. He turned his head and smiled at her. "I would love to have some, thank you."

 _He closes his eyes when he smiles_ , she noticed with reluctant fondness. _Like a boy._

The campsite was peaceful. Kagome and Shippo slept in her sleeping bag, Inuyasha couldn't be seen from the ground, and Kirara dozed off in a tight ball beside them. Sango silently moved about to get the canteen and the kettle.

Whenever she and Miroku were alone together, it was always quiet. She hadn't given it much thought in the beginning—people's ways change in accordance to whom they interact with, and that is only normal. Recently, though, the air between them seemed charged, almost crossing the line to uncomfortable. There was something there, something lurking behind his playful flirting and her automatic indignant response.

 _I'm not looking for love_ , she had to remind herself. _Not with him, not with anyone._

"You look lovely tonight, Sango."

She accidentally turned over the kettle, splashing water on her armor. She thought it was a cruel reminder of her mission, of why she shouldn't be indulging in something so mundane with him. The slayer lifted her eyes to the monk.

"My, it isn't like you to be so clumsy." Miroku stifled a yawn, giving her a sleepy smile.

She didn't rise to his bait, nor did she move to resume her task.

He chuckled. "Are you tired, my dear? Or did you just forget how to make tea?" He teased.

"I'm tired," she blurted. "I'm tired, houshi-sama."

Miroku gave her a puzzled look, and Sango felt her cheeks blooming. He opened his mouth to reply, his eyes suddenly alert, but she beat him to it. "And I don't know if I should make tea or make up my mind."

There was a pregnant pause. Miroku scooted over and hesitantly touched her shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his skin through her armor, and that was saying something.

"Make the tea now," he muttered, "because…" He hesitated, staring at his own hand on her shoulder. "Because your mind can't be made yet—not just yet." Miroku lifted his head and locked eyes with Sango.

Hope felt like a thick knot in her chest, a feeling that had nowhere to go. Slowly, she smiled. _Not just yet_ sounded to her like such beautiful three little words, full of possibilities she hadn't been looking for, but that she wouldn't mind enjoying someday—not at all.


	15. A Holy Man's Trial

**A/N:** Written for **Mirsan Week** on Tumblr. Prompt: _Partners_.

* * *

 **A Holy Man's Trial**

"It's only fair, Sango," Miroku argued. "I am your partner, after all!"

Sango, lying down on Kaede's sleeping pallette, blinked up at him. She had a becoming blush on her cheeks.

"That's highly inappropriate, houshi-sama!" She protested, her brown eyes angry in spite of her obvious embarrassment. "Kagome will change them for me—the supplies are from _her_ time!"

"She shouldn't be the one doing it, Sango. As I said, _I_ am your partner."

The injured slayer lifted one eyebrow, unconvinced. Miroku winked at her, and she pulled the covers up to her chin.

Taunting Sango was one of his favorite pastimes.

"The six of us are a team, houshi-sama," she stated. "You and I just happen to be closer—in battle," she added the last bit quickly, her face blooming again.

He couldn't let it pass. Still sitting beside her, Miroku leaned his upper body closer to hers, using his staff for balance. He didn't invade her personal space too much, or else she might try to get away and hurt herself.

The cover was up under her nose in a heartbeat.

"Just in battle, my dear?" He muttered.

 _You'll regret this later, lech_ , his conscience warned him. It sounded awfully similar to Inuyasha, to his astonishment.

"No."

He almost missed her muffled answer. She lowered the cover to her neck again, showing her serious face. Sango seemed to be measuring him, nervously licking her dry lips.

He hadn't been waiting for that, really. He'd just wanted to tease her a little.

His heartbeat seemed to drum too _late_ , too _late_ , too _late_ in his ears.

"That's-that's right," Miroku managed to mumble after pulling himself together. "So you see—"

"I'll let you change the b-bandages," Sango stuttered. A drop of sweat slid down her temple to disappear in her soft brown hair.

Miroku swallowed, sitting straight again. He couldn't believe it—it was too good to be true. A sudden image of the Wind Tunnel ripping apart and killing them then and there entered his mind; he had to stifle a nervous chuckle.

 _It would be_ just _my luck._

"P-Partners trust each other, houshi-sama," Sango resumed, gulping. "I'll trust you, if you promise not to grope me."

Miroku blinked a few times; then, he frowned slightly. He could handle flirting with Sango and pissing her off, but could he handle a quiet, unassuming sort of physical contact with her? It somehow seemed more intimate, more meaningful.

Very slowly, he nodded, even though he knew this might unnecessarily complicate things. Seeing her anxious, almost earnest expression, Miroku heard what she wasn't saying: this would be a test of sorts, and she would withdraw from him if he didn't take it seriously.

He should have stuck to his old ways exactly because of that; in the end, though, he simply couldn't do it.

As he started undoing the bandage on her thigh to reveal the mostly healed injury, Miroku felt her tensing, undoubtedly waiting for him to break his word. Several minutes passed and he didn't do it; Sango relaxed. Miroku was touching her only with his fingertips; it was hell seeing her goosebumps and doing nothing about it. He briefly wondered how Inuyasha managed to carry Kagome around without _ever_ copping a feel, knowing how she felt about him.

 _Partners trust each other, houshi-sama._

Maybe he understood it better now.

As he approached the end of his task, Miroku instinctively knew Sango would want to keep the moment between them. It would be another complication, another item to add to the list of things they didn't mention... but he was already a cursed man, after all. What difference did it make, really, losing some more sleep?


	16. Mana and Jun

**A/N:** Written for **Mirsan Week** on Tumblr. Prompt: _Scars and Curses_.

* * *

 **Mana and Jun**

The red scar went from Jun's heel to the back of her knee—angry, demanding of everyone's attention, much like Jun herself. Her calf would be forever marred by it, and she couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Having a twin sister made it somehow worse: because of Mana, Jun would be "the one with the scar" from then on.

When the two sisters got back from the river that day, Kagome cleaned Jun's wound and bandaged it. Jun cried for three hours straight under the Goshinboku afterward, and to her surprise, her family let her be.

After the three hours were over, though, Jun's parents went to her and sat on either side of her on the roots.

"It's not the end of the world, you know," her mother admonished with a soft smile.

"Mana pushed me into the river!" Jun yelled. "I hit those rocks because of her!"

Her parents exchanged a look.

"And she will be punished accordingly," her father stated. "But you should forgive her, Jun. Mana never meant to harm you."

She opened her mouth to retort, but her mother beat her to it. "You know the scar on Mama's back? Your uncle Kohaku did it." She wasn't smiling now. "I forgave him, Jun, and mine's much worse than yours."

"More importantly," her father continued, "is that Mana was also scarred by what happened—you just can't see it, my love."

Jun rolled her eyes at him. Her father was always talking nonsense.

"It's the truth," he said, patting her knee. "Mana will remember what happened every single time she looks at your leg. Can you imagine that?"

Jun kept silent, feeling suddenly older.

Once she knew the whole story behind her mother's scar, Jun would marvel at her parents' strength and wisdom in telling her that. She would feel a little proud of hers, too, even though there was nothing tragic or heroic about being pushed into a river.

Still, it made her think she was just a little like Mama—and that was enough for Jun.


	17. Fairytale

**A/N:** Written for **Mirsan Week** on Tumblr. Prompt: _Ever After_.

* * *

 **Fairytale**

Miroku closed his eyes as he listened to the story again—the story of how a little group of misfits saved the land once upon a time. He heard the snapping of the fire and the village children's gasps; heard the cicadas singing in the warm summer night; heard his own heart beating—and remembered.

The soft voice of the priestess spoke of a half-demon pinned to a tree and a girl coming from the future through an old well to free him; of debts payed and first loves put to sleep. It spoke of webs weaved by a cunning spider, of webs weaved through time itself—of time weaving its own web with the red string of fate.

It spoke a little less of a cursed monk and and an orphaned slayer, but he was glad to be mentioned at all. Miroku felt his lips twitching at just how *tragic* his love story sounded; he supposed it truly was, but he didn't quite remember it that way.

It had not felt tragic at the time, but forbidden. It had felt like a very, very good mistake.

He remembered the mentioned warrior ready to die with her brother in a sea of demonic rats, but also the young woman blushing because a lecherous monk said her concern meant more to him than that of any other woman. He remembered her mentioned tears and her strength and her wrath, but also her smile, tenderness, and unconditional love—which he hadn't deserved at the time, and probably still didn't.

Miroku would not go outside tonight and sit on the grass. He would not look at his descendant, the beautiful priestess telling the story, and wink. He would not pretend to be deaf when children asked him questions, and he certainly would not pretend to drop dead.

He did all of those things every night of the new moon, when the village children sat together and listened to the story—his story, his wife's, his friends'. Tonight, though, he would just lie beside his wife, listen to her breathing, and be thankful for his life.

As he combed his wrinkled, naked fingers through Sango's soft grey hair, Miroku snorted quietly. 'And they lived happily ever after,' like Kagome taught everyone to say when finishing a story, would never cover it…

But 'and they _had_ their Ever After' maybe would.

Sometimes, he still couldn't believe it.


	18. Only Human

**A/N:** For once, the Inu no Taisho doesn't play the knight in shining armor.

* * *

 **Only Human**

The Inukimi looked at the sword in her fisted hand as if she'd never seen it before, which was uncharacteristically silly of her. She knew the Tetsusaiga, transformed or not.

A soft night breeze played with her hair and emotions, bringing his scent to her nose. The whole situation had a comical touch to it, in her opinion. _The hero, knowing the lady is proud, gives her his weapon instead of coming to her rescue_ , she mused.

After seemingly endless days traveling back from the East without any rest, she had changed into her human form upon entering her domain. She had been, for lack of a better word, _tired_ , and keeping her true form demanded too much energy.

She'd thought she was safe. She'd thought that maybe, who knew, _he_ would be there, taking care of things in her absence—as an old friend, if nothing else.

The Inukimi had been careless, her people had been asleep, and the young dragon had been waiting.

In the darkness of the night, with only the cold, distant stars as testimonies, Setsumi felt a drop of sweat fall down her temple. She was scared, but not the Inukimi—no, not her. _Never_ her.

The sword came flying from nowhere. It was tossed in her direction, close enough for her to reach it if she so chose. It seemed to chuckle where it lay in the snow, mocking her. _I will not transform for you_ , it seemed to say. _You won't be able to touch me; no other demon is._

She ignored its voice; ignored her wounded pride, urging her to use her claws and teeth and sheer will against Ryukotsusei's son— _anything_ , really, but the weapon forged to protect the woman her former husband now loved.

He was somewhere in the vicinity, hiding his presence and sparing her the part of damsel ( _what a joke_ ) in distress. He knew she wouldn't want him to interfere, but _damn him to hell_ , he already had. She imagined his golden eyes fixed on her, still betting on her after all this time; still willing her to _win_.

Setsumi was the Inukimi. She adamantly refused to disappoint her Inu no Taisho.

The sword didn't transform for her, of course, but it also didn't burn her hand. When the arrogant, juvenile dragon attacked her, it protected her with a barrier. It sparkled and hurt him; she smelled his scales burning, and it made her smile.

After he retreated, she gazed at the rusty sword in her hand. The Inukimi didn't understand it. It had not transformed for her, but it had still protected her—as if she were human.

Just like it would have happened if the woman Toga loved had touched it, she supposed.

The Inukimi didn't understand it, not in the least... But Setsumi did.

She dropped the sword to the frozen earth and walked away without looking back. For the first time in God knew how long, she felt like shedding a tear or two. It was odd in a good way; warm and alive, but bittersweet.

She decided to cherish it, only if for a moment, locking the Inukimi away in her chest and letting Setsumi free.


	19. Philosophy

**Philosophy**

In a warm and quiet summer night, they lay on the grass, gazing at the sky. Fireflies flew about in the darkness, but they were no match for the stars.

As the cicadas and crickets started to fall silent, Miroku realized it was getting late. _Must we go back?_ He thought airily. _We could just stay._

The monk sighed, still looking up. "When I was a boy," he started, only half aware of what he was doing, "Master Mushin used to ask me the strangest questions. They were meant to sharpen my mind, he said."

"Oh?" He heard Sango murmur, sounding as if she were far away. "Ask me one."

Miroku smiled, trying to remember a good one. Inspiration came from above, literally. He cleared his throat.

"Are we human because we gaze at the stars," he said, "or do we gaze at them because we're human?"

There was a moment of silence in which the monk congratulated himself on being such a profound man. His Sango was speechless.

Then, she snorted.

Narrowing his eyes, Miroku turned his head to look at her. Sango's face shone so bright under the moonlight, it seemed almost blue.

She quirked her lips. "What a pointless question, Master Monk."

Miroku felt his own lips quirking. _I forgot she's a very practical woman._

Sango turned suddenly, fixing her eyes on him. He saw a sparkle of something in them, something he didn't recognize. No one had ever shown it to him.

"Do you think they gaze back?" She asked, sounding earnest and... off. "That's what I'd really like to know."

Miroku's lips parted. With hesitation, he raised his hand to touch her cheek. Sango didn't look away, didn't even blink, and his hand stopped mid-move. Gulping, he let it drop to his side. For once, he wouldn't touch her in any way, appropriate or not.

He would just gaze at her, reveling in the fact that she was gazing right back.

* * *

 **A/N:** What inspired me to write this drabble was this quote:

 _A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?"_

 _Pointless, really…"Do the stars gaze back?" Now that's a question._

Neil Gaiman, Stardust


	20. Fall

**Fall**

 _How strange_ , he thought, tightening his arm around the sleeping woman's waist. She leaned against his body, her small hand (sticking and smelling of melons) fisting his shirt. **  
**

In a moonless night, sitting outside with his dozing companion, he Inu no Taisho contemplated his desires. Before Izayoi, his longings had been ruled by the seasons, like the beast he was. In winter, he used to wish for a warm body to hold; someone to keep the chill from his bones and thoughts. In spring, foolish male that he was, he often wished to fall in love (and had even managed to do so, once). In summer, he used to wish for a lover (or lovers) in the truest sense of the word: someone to simply help him control the hot, heavy blood running in his veins. By the time fall came, he usually kept to himself, watching the leaves fly away and missing something he never had.

It was fall now, and he was holding the same woman he'd held during winter, spring, and summer. She mumbled something in her sleep, frowning. He kissed her temple, and the wrinkle between her eyebrows vanished.

A smile flickered, tender, on his lips. Izayoi was an easy woman to please, for a princess. She had showered him with kisses and affection for having found her a melon during fall. A simple melon, of all things!

He'd been born to kill, and she'd been born already dying (like humans can't help but do). Their time together was coming to an end, but for now… for now… He buried his nose in her hair.

In a moonless night during fall, listening to three heartbeats, a beast chose his son's name. In a moonless night during fall, a human woman dreamed and hoped, but a beast… a beast could only wish.


	21. I Have Your Memory

**A/N:** The next chapters I'll post here were written based on prompts I got on tumblr, which is why they're so short. This prompt was _I have your memory_ , asked for inukag.

* * *

 **I Have Your Memory**

The afternoon sun shone through the leaves of the Goshinboku, basking them in a green, warm light. There was no one with them; it was a rare moment of peace and solitude, and Kagome thought, a little sadly, that it was unlikely they would get another one before the end.

It seemed Inuyasha could read her silence as if it were a sentence in a white page. Slowly, he reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers.

Kagome inhaled, feeling the rough bark behind her neck. The tree seemed to be offering her its strength. It was a comfort to know that, whatever happened, the tree would survive; it was still alive in her time, after all.

The very same tree. _I have your memory_ , the girl imagined it saying. _It is safe with me._

 _It will remain._

Finally, she looked at Inuyasha—and smiled.


	22. I Don't Believe In This Stuff

**A/N:** This prompt was _I don't believe in this stuff_ , asked for inukag.

* * *

 **I Don't Believe In This Stuff**

Inuyasha and Miroku walked side by side back to camp—quietly. Just when they could see the girls sitting by the fire, its glow blinking invitingly, the monk stopped moving.

"What is it?" Inuyasha asked, all his senses suddenly alert. Had he missed something? The hot water from the spring always made him a little lethargic.

Miroku sighed, gesturing with his chin at the scene a few feet away from them. "Don't you think it's odd?" He queried, his voice rough and low. "That we have them, I mean." He turned to look at Inuyasha, lifting a hand as if to stop him. "I know we don't, my friend—but we _do_."

Inuyasha blinked at him, frowning. "What're you blabbing about now?"

"It's just that—just," Miroku paused, swallowing. "We don't deserve them, so it has to be destiny." A dark eyebrow raised in the dark. "Don't you think so?"

Inuyasha grunted. "I don't believe in this stuff."

The monk sighed again. "Consider yourself even more lucky, then. You, a non-believer, was graced with more than many who do."

Looking at Kagome's golden skin, her cheeks flushed by the warmth of the fire, Inuyasha, for a tiny second, let himself believe.


	23. I Can't Touch Him

**A/N:** Prompt _I can't touch him_ , asked for inukag.

* * *

 **I Can't Touch Him**

Inuyasha was smiling as they played tag by the river—truly smiling, Kagome noticed, and not just smirking. He was winning the game, but Sango was a close second.

For someone who didn't like his personal space invaded, he really seemed to be enjoying it. His hands—strong, dark, and not at all like a fifteen-year-old's—touched everyone without hesitation.

 _It should have always been like this for him_ , Kagome thought.

Suddenly, he turned in her direction, his eyes warming. Inuyasha flexed his legs; Kagome knew she had half a second, maybe less. She turned to run, expecting to feel his hand tapping her shoulder in an eyebat.

He went for her waist instead, putting each of his hands just above her hips. They were large and warm. Eyes wide on her undoubtedly red face, she turned to look at him.

Inuyasha flushed, releasing Kagome immediately.

She offered him a tentative smile. _It's no big deal_ , she wanted to say. Y _ou're always touching me_.

But he was already turning to his next target, offering her a grin.

 _I can't touch him, though_. She sighed. _Not the way I want to._


	24. We Described It In Vivid Colors

**A/N:** Prompt _We described it in vivid colors_ , asked for inuparents.

* * *

 **We Described It In Vivid Colors**

"I cannot believe the audacity of that servant!" Myoga squealed, shaking his tiny arms. "To ask my Lord such a thing, and in front of the Lady!"

Lady Izayoi looked at the general out of the corner of her eye. Myoga noticed her lips twitching; was the woman trying not to laugh?

"It is of no consequence," the lord said, sipping his tea as if nothing else mattered. How could such a force of nature act so calm, Myoga would never understand.

The flea gulped, bracing himself to voice a stupid question. "But, my Lord," he began, "may I ask how did you answer it?"

The Inu no Taisho fixed his golden eyes on the flea, making him want to turn into a fly and escape. There was something strange there, though. Mirth?

"When the insolent bear asked us how could Lady Izayoi possibly be pregnant," his lord said blandly, "we told him."

Said lady snorted. Myoga blinked. A bird chirped somewhere in the garden.

"We described it in vivid colors," the general completed, placing his cup back on the saucer.

After a few moments of tension, Myoga sighed. Such a thing was unheard of; it sounded very out of character for the general, but his lord never lied.

He bowed to the couple and turned to leave, preparing himself for the uproar he would undoubtedly find in the kitchen. Lady Izayoi's giggle trailed after him, and the flea found himself smiling.


	25. I Don't Have the Courage

**A/N:** Prompt _I don't have the courage_ , asked for inuparents.

* * *

 **I Don't Have The Courage**

"The choice is yours, my dear," he said, gazing at her with such sadness and love that Izayoi felt out of breath. He seemed resigned to accept whatever she said, but his hands were fisted at his sides.

He was nervous. He was keeping himself together for her sake, but Izayoi knew her answer could destroy him. He would never voice it, though; not if he thought she was sure of what she wanted. It was such a rare thing in a man, and a demon at that, that she didn't know what to do at first.

 _I am pregnant_ , she told herself, trying to get used to the idea. _Toga can smell the child inside me, and he's giving me a choice._

Was there a choice, though? Could she live with anything other than what she already knew in her heart she would do?

Looking at his serious face, Izayoi felt like crying. She was aware of what was in store for her, for their child—she thought so, at least. But still… how could she end it? It was her baby, her and his, and she _loved_ him. Izayoi tried to stifle a hysterical laugh, thinking she might already love it too.

Sometimes it wasn't enough, and Izayoi would never fault another woman for doing it, but…

"I don't have the courage," she whispered. When he bowed his head, she realized he misunderstood. Stepping forward, Izayoi took his large hand in both of hers. "I could never kill our child, dearest. You should know me better than this."

His head snapped up, and the general couldn't suppress a sigh as their eyes locked. Gently, he brought her closer.

"But you are very brave, my Lady," he murmured in her hair. "After today, you may never doubt it."


	26. I Don't Have Your Faith

**A/N:** The prompt here is the same one used in chapter 22, _I don't believe in this stuff_ , but it was asked for inusan this time (sort of... autocorrect did that, but I'd already written this when the person told me lol). I'm changing the title so people don't think I updated the same chapter twice, but I wanted to keep the same idea, so...

* * *

 **I Don't Have Your Faith**

The silence was broken only by the sound of Inuyasha's feet hitting the ground as he ran. He was usually more careful than this at night; more quiet, which told Sango her situation must be dire.

He hadn't let her see the wound. If Inuyasha thought she of all people couldn't take it…

"You should leave me behind," she murmured, exhaling a nervous giggle. "Call the others and g-get back."

"Shut up," he grumbled, tightening his hold on her legs. "Blood loss is making you stupid."

Sango contemplated his words, her head swimming. Maybe Inuyasha had a point, but she knew she was being a hindrance. She was tired of feeling like she was in the way—especially Miroku's.

He had been distant lately, more guarded, and yet…

"We shouldn't have split up," she said.

"It was our best shot," Inuyasha refuted, apparently intent on answering a delirious person. "They needed to seal the village gates. We're no good at that."

Sango groaned from pain and impatience. "Not what I meant."

He was silent.

"I think I'm dying."

"You sure as hell are talkative."

She snorted, slapping his shoulder lightly. Sango swallowed, closing her eyes. "Think I'll see my father again?"

"I don't believe in this stuff," Inuyasha declared. He turned his face a little, and Sango could feel his bangs brushing against her nose. His hair smelled of blood and ginger; strangely familiar, pleasant even. "And I don't believe you're gonna die," he completed. "The lecher won't, either."

Sango didn't understand why Inuyasha had said the last part, but she nodded, burying her nose in his shoulder. She'd be embarrassed later, but for now… For once… She just wanted to be carried.

* * *

 **A/N:** I think it was kinda cool that I changed the title, because now it works for both Sango and Inuyasha. He doesn't believe in heaven, but she doesn't believe she'll survive. Anyways lol, this is supposed to take place after Inuyasha found out Miroku was dying from miasma poisoning. I know the gang wasn't taking random missions by that point, but just roll with me here.


	27. That's Not How Reality Works

**A/N:** Prompt _That's not how reality works_ , asked for inukik.

* * *

 **That's Not How Reality Works**

Kikyo watched him watching her, trying to find in his eyes the mischief she had been led to believe was there. What she saw instead was sadness, guilt, and longing. _No love, then_. _Not anymore._

Unless she was reading him wrong, of course. It wouldn't be the first time.

With tender hesitance, he lifted his hand to touch a strand of her hair. Kikyo closed her eyes, thinking it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that her reincarnation walked the earth at the same time she did. _That's not how reality works_ , she thought angrily. _I should never have met her. He should never have met her._

And yet, which one of them was wrong? The girl, for ending up in a time she did not belong, or her, for coming back from the dead? Both. Neither. Stepping forward to hug the man she loved, one of the few things she could still do with and for him, Kikyo thought it didn't matter.

Reality was what it was.


	28. We Took Care Of It

**A/N:** The prompt here is the same one used in chapter 24, _We described it in vivid colors_ , but it was asked for inukik this time. Again, had to change the title so people don't confuse the two.

* * *

 **We Took Care Of It**

"But are you unharmed, Lady Priestess?" The village chief asked eagerly. Kikyo didn't know if he was more afraid of her or Inuyasha, who stood quietly behind her. Sulking.

 _Like a child_ , she thought, concentrating on answering the man so she wouldn't start laughing. That was for private moments; and besides, the elder might have a heart attack if the 'stoic priestess' had a laughing fit. He was already turning an unbecoming shade of green.

"I assure you I'm quite well, Sir," she said, lifting a placating hand. "That demon was nothing I'm not used to handle… though I wish you hadn't lied about his nature," she added, trying to prevent Inuyasha from opening his big mouth.

It didn't work.

"She could've died, old man," Inuyasha said, his voice low. "The thing was intent on killing her. I'd not have been happy." He cracked his knuckles for dramatic effect. Kikyo thought her eyes would pop at the back of her head, she rolled them so hard.

"I'm afraid I didn't finish him off, Sir, but I must take my leave."

The chief twisted his hands.

"We told him we would kill him if he came back, and I'm positive it is quite enough," she assured.

"We described it in vivid colors," Inuyasha grumbled, his voice acid. Was he emulating her language?

Kikyo couldn't wait to leave this place with him. She was having trouble holding in her laughter.


	29. She Wanted To Touch Him

**A/N:** The prompt here is the same one used in chapter 23, _I can't touch him_ , but this time with inukik. Changed the title, but not the designated sentence.

* * *

 **She Wanted To Touch Him**

The first time she saw him, she didn't really see him. He was nothing more than a nuisance, an instect stuck to the sole of her sandal. He was just another demon— _half_ —trying to get his hands on the jewel.

After the third time he showed up, though, she started noticing some things she shouldn't have. His hair was beautiful, if a little strange. He had strong features, but there was still a childhood softness to them. His body was lean, and his twitching ears looked very… touchable.

She wanted to touch them.

 _I can't touch him_ , she scolded herself. _He's a villain_.

But the more he came back, the more she wanted to. One day, she did—and it changed everything.


	30. It Was Used Before

**A/N:** The prompt is _It was used before_ , asked for inukik.

* * *

 **It Was Used Before**

 _The smile he gives you was used before_ , Kikyo wanted to say, but only sometimes. Only when she felt especially bitter with life—with death—and its cruel twist.

 _The look he gives you was used before_ , she kept thinking, blaming him and herself—but not the girl, not really, though Kagome surely had been the last straw.

 _What he feels for you is because of your face_ , Kikyo would add, if she felt particularly cruel. If she ever got the chance. If she hardened herself enough to say anything at all. _Your face, you see?_ _It was used before._

What hurt the most was that Kikyo knew only the last part was true.

* * *

 **A/N:** Quick question for the few people reading this: would it be okay if I posted ficlets about non-canon ships? It wasn't my initial idea for this assortment, but the prompts kept coming lol. Pretty please, review!


	31. New Fears

**A/N:** Mirsan, written for _feudal-prompts_ on Tumblr in September 2016. I forgot to post it here.

The prompt was _Haunted._

* * *

 **New Fears**

Sango slowly sits up in the dark and runs a hand through her sweaty bangs. Her chest is heaving up and down, her throat feels dry, and she has to put her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.

Turning her head sideways, she looks at Miroku's sleeping form. The embers in the firepit illuminate him only enough for her to see his peaceful face, and Sango finds herself calming down. She closes her eyes, matching her labored breathing with his easy one, and tries not to think much of the nightmare she just had.

Demon slayers never had peaceful lives, but Sango thinks destiny took this premise a little too far in her case. Now that she's a married woman and mother of two beautiful girls, the nightmares about the past do not scare her anymore. They're bad and hard memories, unpleasant in essence, but also harmless enough.

They can fuel _new_ fears, though.

Looking down between herself and her husband, Sango sees the top of the twins' heads poking out of the thick cover. Her hand is shaking as she gently reveals their tiny faces to the dying light, desperately needing to see them, to make sure they're safe.

 _I fear for you both, my beautiful girls_ , she thinks, her vision blurring. _Demon slayers never have peaceful lives, and your blood's the same as mine._

Sango remembers the nightmare with a shiver: an older Mana, her eyes dead, shoving a kusarigama at her sister Jun's back. She pictures Jun's startled eyes as the girl slowly falls down, bleeding.

What if another Naraku comes around? What if she and Miroku are too old to protect their children? What if the girls decide to follow in their footsteps and fight back, but don't make it in the end?

Sango only realizes she's crying upon feeling Miroku's gentle fingers wiping her tears away. She blinks once, twice, trying to focus on him.

Her husband is leaning toward her, cupping her face in both his hands. "Why are you crying, wife?" He mutters, creasing his brow.

"I-It's in my head, Miroku," she whispers, shaking her head. "I'm afraid of it—the future. I'm afraid it will be like the past."

Miroku sighs and moves away from Sango. He knows of her fears, but he can't promise her that their children will never be in danger. He can't promise her there won't be another Naraku, another jewel, another quest.

He usually just holds her and shushes her until she falls asleep, but Miroku has a feeling she's a little more desperate tonight. _I understand where you're coming from, my love_ , he thinks _._

 _But for now, they are just two little girls._

Miroku brings one of her hands to his mouth and kisses it, thinking carefully of his next words. Eventually, the former monk decides to go for something simple.

"They are here," he says, nodding at the sleeping twins. "They are in our bed, and they won't be going away." Miroku smiles sheepishly, shrugging. "Not anytime soon, at least."

Sango sniffs, also gazing at the twins, and slowly nods.

Before falling back asleep, Miroku's last thought is that he can only do for his kids what his father, Sango's father, and even Inuyasha's father did: prepare them as best he can for the future, giving them the means to face life.

 _Let it be enough._ He exhales in the dark. _Please._

The four of them sleep in a bundle for the rest of the night.


	32. Protect

**A/N:** Written for Inukag Week 2017 on Tumblr, prompt: _Protect_.

* * *

 **Protect**

She told him stories he couldn't quite believe, but he knew better than to think she would lie so casually. **  
**

She told him a foreign legend about a _hanging garden_ , some fantastic thing a king with a name he couldn't say had built to please his homesick queen. It was disheartening, really. Inuyasha could never give her such a thing.

It wasn't only this one tale. Kagome said there was once a very beautiful queen who was married to an older, ruthless man. A prince from another country, a guest at their house, fell for her and stole her away - and started a war to keep her.

A _war._ he couldn't even defeat _one_ half-demon.

He overheard her telling Shippo the story that hurt him the most: there was once a musician with a strange name that sounded like rustling leaves, and he was very much in love with his wife. A kind of demon from their land was also in love with her, and as she tried to escape it, she stepped on a nest of snakes and _died_. The musician was so talented that his gods allowed him to fetch the woman in hell.

Inuyasha couldn't remember the last time he'd sang out loud; maybe he never had. He had no talent, only brute strength, and that didn't help before…

He told himself it was stupid to be miffed over old legends no one knew for sure to be true, but they still got under his skin. Even if the stories were false, Kagome obviously liked them, and Inuyasha could never do anything remotely close to what those men had done.

It took an unusually hard fight against a nasty demon for him to realize something: they had all failed.

The king had treated his homesick wife like a caged bird; _sheltering_ wasn't the same as protecting. The prince had relied on his elder brother's strength to keep his beautiful queen ( _ha_ ); _keeping_ wasn't the same as protecting, either. The musician had loved his wife, but he hadn't been by her side when she needed him most; _loving_ wasn't enough if you didn't protect (he knew that first-hand).

So, Inuyasha wouldn't fail Kagome. He would _protect_ her; not as her lover, never as her owner, but as her truest and most reliable friend. His protection was all he could give, but at least it had saved her a few times ( _like today_ ). It had given her yet another day to live. That was enough.

And perhaps, if fortune smiled upon a half-demon who was not a king, nor a prince, and had no talent to speak of, he would be able to give her a garden someday.

* * *

 **A/N:** In case you don't know them and is curious, the king who built the garden is Nebuchadnezzar II, the prince is Paris of Troy, and the musician is Orpheus. This means the women are, respectively, Queen Amytis, Queen/Princess Helen, and Eurydice (I had to name the girls too, c'mon).


	33. Selenophobia

**A/N:** Written for Inukag Week 2017 on Tumblr, prompt: _Fear_.

* * *

 **Selenophobia**

She didn't know when it had started, or if it would ever go away. What she _did_ know was that she hid it well, having learned during childhood that she would be mocked if people discovered it.

Kagome would never admit it out loud, but her strange fear had been part of her not wanting to come back to the Feudal Era at the beginning. It wasn't the main reason; school, demons and Inuyasha himself had come first, but _it_ had also been lurking in the back of her mind. There were no skyscrapers or electric lights in Feudal Japan.

It would watch her when the night came, huge and glowing and _there_.

What saddened her most was that she loved stargazing. She _loved_ it, but was only capable of doing it with someone beside her (and never if _it_ overshone the stars).

Tonight, for example, she would never have been able to.

Kagome had severely needed to relieve herself, so she gently pushed Shippo away and got up. She kept her eyes on her feet, remembering her mother's voice saying _sweetie, just look at me_. After taking care of her business, she started making it back to camp, but the sight of Inuyasha's red haori (almost purple) caught her eye.

He was standing in the clearing and looking up to the sky. His silver hair was flying with the wind, and his skin was glowing almost blue. Inuyasha never seemed more otherworldly to Kagome than in that moment; it was as if he'd came out straight from a fairytale.

She felt a buzzing in her ears, a strange tickling inside her chest. Hesitantly, Kagome lifted her head to see what Inuyasha was staring at (oh, but she already knew).

Wide-eyed, Kagome watched. It was huge, imposing, _impossible_ to ignore. She couldn't see her precious stars—not even one. The eerie feeling was there inside her, the dread, the shortness of breath… but she couldn't look away, not with Inuyasha standing _right under it_.

He turned and looked at her.

Inuyasha didn't smile. He just stood there, looking at her and _seeing_ her and making the buzzing sound stop. He started walking toward her, silhouetted against the light, and it didn't feel like a nightmare this time. He was saying something (maybe _whatcha doing up?_ ), but she couldn't answer.

Up in the sky, _it_ seemed to smile. It was warm, understanding, and it seemed to call her silly without saying a word (but not in a bad way, no, not bad at all).

 _Silly, who would gossip about you?_ Inuyasha's voice, with a smile that wasn't there but should have been.

"It's beautiful," Kagome said, finally looking at him. She grinned. "The moon."

It was the first time she said that. It sounded like a door closing.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know having this fear wouldn't have made her unable to say the word, but I only wanted to write "moon" once. If I offended anyone, please know it was not my intention.


End file.
